“I promise, Vlad. I won’t show my face in the Imperial library.”
“Ah. Well. That’s a great load off my mind. Really, Kiera. I’ve got you, Mario, and Lady Teldra working for me. What could they come up with that even presents a good challenge?”
“I assume that’s intended as irony.”
“Well, yeah, maybe a little.”
“Be well, Vlad.”
“Kiera—”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
She nodded and went through the curtain. 11. Descani Wine
Mihi came and replaced the wine with a Descani, which is something like what you’d get if you poured half a glass of white into half a glass of red. It sounds awful, but it really isn’t that bad. And this, whatever it was, produced a very mild tingle on the tongue that went well with the sweetness of the candied rose petals.
“They seem to like you here,” said Telnan.
“Hmmm?”
“Just, the way that guy—”
“Mihi.”
“Yes. The way he always smiles at you.”
“Well, I’ve been a regular customer for a long time. And, of course, I’m an Easterner like they are.”
He nodded. He was right, though. I was pretty popular with the staff here. I’d found that out some years ago. I had accidentally come across Vili at an inn in South Adrilankha, and he’d been drinking. We talked a bit, and it turned out that, well, they sort of knew what I did, and they knew I was successful at it. In other words, I was an Easterner who walked around the upper echelons—or, the middle echelons at least—of Dragaeran society. I was one of them who’d made good, and the exact way I had either didn’t matter, or maybe even added a little spice to it.
And, in turn, knowing they felt that way made eating atValabar’s all the more pleasant for me.
But I didn’t care to explain all of that to Telnan.
“How you doing, Boss?”
“Better. It was good of her.”
“It doesn’t scare you that she found you?”
“Not as much as it should”
“So, what now?”
“I’m thinking about sending you to the Imperial library to continue my research.”
“That’s really funny, Boss.”
“Okay, then how about you find out everything you can about Triesco and Terion.”
“Sure, Boss.”
“Okay, then. Skip that. You’ll just keep guarding me when I step outside, and I’ll ...”
“Yes?”
“I haven’t worked that part out, yet. Fortunately, however, I’m hungry and tired, so I can get some food, then sleep, and put off the decision for a while.”
“I knew I could count on you to have the answer, Boss.”
Having made a plan, I promptly put it into action. It worked perfectly.
The next day I returned to the Imperial library—albeit a bit more worried thanks to Kiera—and spent another day with Deleen. I didn’t expect him to turn up anything new, but I couldn’t think of anything else I should be doing instead.
In fact, he didn’t turn up anything new. As the long day drew near its end, he said, “I’m starting to think we’ve found what there is to find.”
“I imagine you’re right,” I said. “And I’d like to thank you—”
“It’s what I do,” he said. “I’ve enjoyed the challenge.”
“Good. It’s helped.”
“Helped?”
“I mean, you’ve found some information that will be of use to me.”
He frowned. I think it was just entering his head for the first time that I wanted that information for a reason. For a moment he looked at me, as if seeing me for the first time. Then I could almost see him mentally shrug, dismissing the notion as having nothing to do with him or his life.
“Well,” he said, “Good, then.”
“If there is anything I can do for—”
“No, no.”
He nodded and turned away, off to be about whatever business he had. I think he’d forgotten I existed before I left the building. On my way out, I gave one nervous glance at the gray slate Jhereg Wing of the Palace, rising over my head. No one seemed to be looking for me.
Kiera did have a point though. I was glad I wouldn’t be coming back this way. Just to be safe, I took the Five Mile Bridge. Most likely it didn’t make me any safer, but it gave me a few extra hours to walk and think.
The streets of Adrilankha, even South Adrilankha, were first dug out, I suppose, from whatever paths people happened to make, so long ago that I can’t conceive of it. They were paved with stone, and then trampled down farther into the ground, and new stories laid on top of the old ones. They tell me that the entire city has sunk several feet since it was first established; the streets sinking farther than the buildings, but both of them dropping. I don’t know if that’s true. I do know that by the time I got back to Six Corners, my feet hurt more than they had from walking hundreds of miles across the continent. It’s funny how, after being cut, stabbed, and beaten by professionals on both sides of the line of justice, one can still be deeply annoyed by a pair of sore feet.
I was certainly grateful for my new boots, though, or it would have been much worse.
Eventually I reached Devon’s House, a public house about a quarter of a mile east of Six Corners. I was early, so I sat in the corner and drank a white wine that was too sweet and not cold enough. My feet appreciated it.
The place began filling up—mostly workers from the slaughter-houses, to judge from the smell that accompanied them. There were a few tradesmen as well. And all Easterners. I felt safe, maybe safer than I should have, in disguise and surrounded by Easterners. I cautioned myself not to let myself feel too safe, especially when I didn’t have Loiosh and Rocza in the room to watch for me.
An hour or so later my man came in. It took him a while to spot me, which gave me a certain amount of pleasure. He was a stocky guy, not unlike Ric, balding, with thin lips and a nose that looked like it had been broken.
“Sandor.”
I nodded. “And you’re Vincent, as I recall.”
He nodded.
“Please,” I said. “Sit down. Wine?”
“Sure.”
I poured, and passed him the glass, along with a pair of gold imperials.
He nodded and said, “I’ll give you what I have.”
“That’s all I can ask.”
He gave me a list of three names, Easterners, who ran small operations and paid off the Left Hand. Nothing surprising, and not exceptionally useful.
Then he said, “You know about the guy they’re looking for, right?”
I frowned. “No. Tell me.”
“The word is to keep an eye out for a guy, an Easterner, who walks around with a pair of jhereg on his shoulders.”
“Is that right?”
“It’s worth a hundred imperials to whoever spots him and gets word back.”
“That’s a lot.”
“You don’t seem interested in the news.”
“No, actually, I am. It’s good to know, and I’m glad you told me about it.”
He nodded. “You seen him?”
“No. How are they spreading this, uh, word?”
“The runners were told. The guy who mentioned it to me said if I spotted him, he’d split it with me.”
“Generous of him.”
Vincent shrugged. “I haven’t seen the guy.”
“All right. Anything else going on?”
“Nothing that would matter.”
“What does that mean?”
He shrugged. “The Ristall Market was closed, but that doesn’t have anything to do with—”